Thoughts from the other side
by MissOceanBlue
Summary: Skye's story...Depression, Love and Hope. Based on the book.
1. Prologue

Prologue

To say the truth, Hannah's death probably shouldn't have hit me so hard. I mean, we weren't really good friends or anything. We did talk sometimes.

There was this one time in math when Hannah came in late. There was an empty seat next to me and she came over and sat down. We kind of started talking and it was nice to just laugh with someone for awhile. Of course the whole time I was stressing over not annoying her and saying the right thing.

Truthfully, I was pretty surprised she sat next to me. There was an empty seat next to Clay Jenson and if he looked at me the way he looked at her…

Anyway, the day they told us she committed suicide, I was pretty shocked.

It's not like it came out of nowhere. I could sense a change in her awhile before.

I could sense things like this pretty quickly. It came from my obsession of needing to know if I was annoying someone. I didn't think she would take it that far though. I didn't really know what was going on in Hannah's life.

I don't think anyone did. After the news came out, people started acting strangly…


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

I'm sitting alone at lunch, there are some other people at the table but they're mostly talking amongst themselves. There are two girls talking about a book series I used to like. I want to join their conversation but that would just be weird, I guess. I eat my sandwich quietly and observe the other people at the cafeteria. I sometimes bring a book to lunch, but I didn't feel like doing that today. And anyway, I like observing people. I always marvel at how they can just say whatever they want, without even thinking twice about it. It seems so easy for other people, but for some reason I have a hard time at conversations.

The bell rings so I quickly stuff what's left of my sandwich into my mouth and grab my bag. I quickly walk out of the cafeteria while trying to remember what class I have next. Right, Literature. In my opinion, Literature would have been a fascinating subject if the pieces we learned talked about interesting topics.

Personally, I thought poems, for example, where amazing and complicated things. But the pieces that we're taught at school are just plain boring. As I'm walking to my locker, I notice Clay.

He's standing by his locker, which is open, but he's staring blankly ahead.

Ever since Hannah's death he hasn't exactly been himself. He's become a bit introverted. I don't know how well he was a friend with Hannah, but I know they talked and I'm pretty sure he liked her. I open my locker and take out my notebook and literature book. My notebook is completely covered in scribbles and doodles. I guess you can say I like drawing. My dad has never stopped telling me stories about my mom. He particularly likes telling me about her love for art. She worked as a social worker, but he's shown me millions of her paintings that I'm sure could have been presented it an art museum. Ever since then drawing has become my passion. It's helped me so much these past few years. I feel connected to my mom that way. I mostly like sketching, whereas my mom used to experiment with all the colors on the palette. I walk up the stairs to the third floor and enter the classroom. I'm quite early, there are only a few other students sitting around and talking quietly. I take a seat at the far right of the classroom, away from where all the noisy jocks usually sit. I open my literature book and reread the piece we learned last lesson. Something about love, despair, misery, the usual. As kids start filling in the classroom, I take out a pencil from my bag and open to a very scribbled page in my notebook.

I'm not drawing anything particular, I just let the pencil graze the paper, enjoying the sound the paper makes. The teacher, a middle aged woman with short curly hair and glasses, walks in and the hum of students talking quiets down. "Good afternoon students, please take a minute to review your notes from last lesson and then we shall get started." As I've already reviewed the notes, I take a minute to check my phone. I scroll through Instagram. I must say I use Instagram a lot, but not to post pictures. I used to post a lot, but my last post is from last march, a sketch I drew of a wolf. Now I mostly use it to follow artists and photographers. "Alright, today we are going to focus on the Literary techniques of the piece..."

I'm walking home home from school because I live pretty close by, and I like the walk. I've lived here all my life, well, at least as long as I can remember. My dad told me he and my mom moved here when I was still a baby, they wanted me to grow in a nice quiet neighborhood. I went to the public elementary school here with most of the kids from my present grade. I'm passing by it now, it's playground is filled with little kids laughing and shouting as they run around. "Hey Skye," I hear someone say behind me. I turn around and see Allie Clarkson. She used to be a good friend of mine back in elementary school, and we're still friendly at school, but we don't talk much anymore. "Hey Allie," I say, and we begin to walk together in the direction I was heading. "Did you have that Biology exam yet? I had it today," She says. "No, mines on Friday," I say. "How was it?" "Well, it wasn't too hard," she answers. "There were a lot of questions on cell cycle and structure though." "That seems to be Mrs. Niles favorite topic," I say jokingly. Allie laughs. "So, are you coming to the school dance next Friday?" she asks. "What dance?" I ask, cause I'm not exactly up to date on the latest school news. "Some fundraiser for the football team or something, who cares? Should be fun though." "Oh, I don't know, school dances aren't exactly my scene," I say. "You should come anyway, lot's of single cute guys will be there," she jokes. I smile. "Well, this is me," she says, stopping in front of a fairly large house with a small kiddie pool settled under a big tree in the front yard. I have many memories from that pool, summer days spent playing mermaids and eating watermelon under the big oak. "Bye," I say and watch her open the door and disappear behind it. I continue on walking, trying to remember the last time I visited that house.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

I slowly opened my eyes, blinking in the soft light. The sun was creating gentle rays across my bedroom. I sat up and yawned, glancing sideways at the clock on my bedroom table.

It read 7:30.

This was a normal waking hour for me on a Saturday morning. I stretched and reached for my phone. I checked social media and once I got bored of that, I forced myself out of bed. I shivered in the chilly air drifting from my window and hurried to get dressed. I could hear the clunking of my dad making breakfast downstairs.

"Good morning," he said cheerfully as I stepped into the kitchen. "Coffee?"

"No thanks, dad," I said, busying myself with making a cup of tea. I took it to the small table that was perched in a nook in our small kitchen and sat down.

"Toast?" my dad asked.

"Umm…sure."

He placed a plate in front of me and sat down in the seat across. I took a small sip of the piping hot tea and nibbled at the toast.

"Sorry I've a bit busy this week, it's been a bit stressful at the bank."

My dad works as a Financial Analyst. He's not exactly "crazy" about his job, but we live pretty well because of it.

"It's fine," I say. "I was pretty busy with schoolwork." That's a lie.

I get a nice amount of homework at school but I feel lonely and bored a lot of the time. I have my art lessons every Monday and sometimes attend this writing group. They meet every Wednesday but I only come occasionally. Hannah used to come sometimes and we would laugh together at the other participant's hideous poems. Still though, I find myself alone at home reading the same books over and over again way too often.

"You want to do something together today or do you have something else planned?"

He knows I have nothing else planned. But he asks anyway. Like always.

"Nothing planned this particular Saturday," I say sarcastically. "How about the movies?" he asks.

"I'll go check what's playing today."

Dad smiles and ruffles my hair. I get up, head upstairs and enter my room.

My computer is nestled on my desk, surrounded by pencils, art pens and sketches. I turn it on and check what movies are playing today at the theatre. I find a comedy that looks stupid enough to be funny, but not to stupid to be cringy.

"Dad!" I yell.

"What?" he shouts back.

"There's a comed-" I start yelling but he cuts me off "- good enough for me!"

I chuckle and stand up. I glance at the mirror and sigh.

For those of you who are wondering what I look like, I'll give a brief description. I have straight dark brown hair and bangs. Blue eyes, like the sky as my dad likes to say, and pale skin. I have some freckles scattered across my face. I'm not tall nor short, I'm average. People say I'm thin, I don't really know. I don't really care for clothes, I mostly wear whatever I feel comfortable in. I go downstairs and settle on the couch to wait for dad.

"Skye!" he yells from upstairs.

"What?"

"Can you look for the keys? I've seemed to lost them. Again."

I sigh and get up. Dad has a special talent for losing every single thing he owns. It must run in the family, because I have the same talent.

"Found them, dad!" I shout, while crouching on the floor and trying to reach to where they fell from the table.

"Good, shall we?" he asks as he enters the living room.

We step outside and instantly get soaked. "Run!" Dad yells and we sprint down the street to where the small blue Ford is parked. We quickly open the doors and collapse inside, shut the doors with a bang and sit there for a few moments, panting. "That rain come out of nowhere, didn't it?" he asks. I laugh. "That's the most physical activity I've done in days," I say jokingly. Dad chuckles and turns on the heat. He starts driving and I turn on the radio. The Beatles come on. "Lucy in the sky with diamonds!" we sing along. Most teenagers would probably find this weird, going with your dad to the movies on a Saturday, singing along to The Beatles in the car, but this a perfectly normal Saturday morning for me. I look outside the window. My dads right, this rain did come out of nowhere. Wasn't the sun just shining an hour ago? Our clothes are almost dry when Dad parks the car in the parking lot of the movie theatre. It doesn't matter though, because the second we step outside we're once again soaked.

We make a beeline for the theatre building. We walk inside and go to pay for the tickets. As we wait in line, I notice a bunch of kids from my grade laughing and buying popcorn. I instantly regret coming.

"I'm going to the bathroom," I tell Dad, trying to seem calm.

"Everything alright, Scutters?" he asks. Scutters is his nickname for me. It's kind of stupid, but it's kind of hard to make up a nickname for the name Skye. "Wonderful," I answer and start walking quickly toward the girl's bathroom, trying to hide my face.

I can hear them talking loudly and I'm almost sure I hear one of them mention the movie we're going to. Ugh, great.

Luckily, I make it to the bathroom without anyone noticing. I stand there, trying to find the courage to go back outside. Suddenly, I hear the door open and realize someone's coming in. I hear the sound of two girls and hurry into one of the stalls.

"-no, so I thought I'd buy the other one and then we won't have the same shirt," one of them says. I think it's Jessica Davis.

"Let's take a mirror selfie," I hear the other girl say, but I don't recognize her voice. I sigh. This might take awhile.

After a few minutes I hear them leaving. I wait a few moments before opening the door of the stall. I leave the bathroom and join my dad, who's waiting for me by the entrance with a bucket of popcorn.

"What took you so long?" he asks. I shrug, take a bit of popcorn from the bucket and pop it in my mouth. We enter the theatre and find our seats. I glance around nervously, and see with relief that they are sitting on the other side of the theatre. Now I can enjoy the movie in peace.

{o0o}

"…when that guy called the cops instead of his wife," my dad says laughing. I snort.

"Or when she tried to lick the cake of his face," I say giggling and my dad cracks up. We're walking out of the theatre and into the lobby, talking about which parts we found funniest in the movie. My spirits are well lifted and I almost forget about the kids until: "Hey Skye."

I freeze. I'm having a silent conversation with myself, trying to decide if to turn around or act like I didn't hear them. But the decision is made for me. "Skye, someone's calling you."

I look up sheepishly at my dad and then turn around.

"Oh, hey," I say. They're a group of six. Jessica and two other girls I don't know, and Zack, Justin and guy I don't know.

"You're here with your dad?" one of the girls asks. "Umm… yeah," I answer, my throat feeling strangely dry. "Cool," she says, looking like she doesn't think it's cool at all.

"Well, I should probably get going, my dad's waiting," I say awkwardly. "Bye," they say and I turn around and walk outside to where my dad's waiting. "Were those friends from school?" he asks as we start walking toward the car. It has stopped raining but it's still a bit cloudy outside.

"Not _friends_ ," I answer.

The drive back is most silent, except for the soft pattering of rain that has now started again. When we get home, I head up to my room to do my homework while my dad starts preparing lunch. I feel mostly depressed the rest of the day, but I start to feel better in the evening when my dad suggests a game of Life. After we finish, I start to feel a bit tired and head to bed for an early night in. But I don't fall asleep.

Like most nights, I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, my thoughts wandering.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

I'm sitting on the bus, coming back from my art class. Like most nights, I'm the only one riding. My legs are propped in front of me.

I rest my head on the cold window, looking outside at the silent night.

I've past my station awhile ago, but I like riding the bus at night. It calms me, and I don't want to go home and not fall asleep and again have to deal with my stupid thoughts. I breath heavily and close my eyes. I feel the bus stop and hear the door open. I hear the footsteps of someone walking toward me. I crack open one eye and freeze.

 _Why now? Oh God, why now?_

Clay is sitting in the seat across the aisle from me. He has earphones on and-wait, is that a tape? Why the fuck would Clay be listening to a tape. He shifts in his seat. He looks really focused on something. I don't know if to say something and acknowledge him of my being there or not. It would be weird if I just keep staring at him. I open my mouth to say something but nothing comes out.

 _Come on Skye, seriously?_

I clench my fists and feel my nails dig into my skin. I swallow hard and take a deep breath.

"Miss your stop, Clay?" I croak.

What is wrong with my voice.

"Hey Skye."

If he noticed my voice, he doesn't show it.

He's expression is distant, as if his mind is somewhere else .I will myself to speak. "Miss your house? He'll stop if you ask him to." That's the most I've spoken to him in a long time. He shakes his head. My face feels so hot I'm sure he can feel the heat radiating from my skin. We sit a few minutes in silence and then the driver stops the bus and calls: "Anyone?" None of us answers so the bus continues on.

"Where are you going?" Clay asks me.

I smirk. ' _I'm asking myself the same question_ ,' I think.

I decide to answer truthfully. "I'm not going anywhere." Am I annoying him? I'm not sure. Clay is one of the few people I can't read. I think I am, because he doesn't say anything. He looks like he wants to leave but doesn't want to be impolite. I spare him the trouble. "See you tomorrow."

I hope that he will say something. Maybe try to start a real conversation.

But he doesn't.

"See you later," is all he says and gets off the bus. I watch him walk outside and put his earphones back on. I close my eyes and relax my head against the window. I feel so disappointed but I don't know why.

It's not like I expected us to have an actual conversation. Sure, yeah, Clay used to like me but it's not the same anymore.

 _Why would he want to talk to you?_

It was stupid to get my hopes up. I check my phone to see if I have any texts from dad wondering where I am. None. He's probably having another late night at work.

I know I should get home. It's getting late and I'll fall asleep here if I don't get off. But I don't want to leave the comfort of the bus. I sit there a few minutes, stalling, and then I heave myself off the leathery chair of the bus.

"Can you stop here, please?"

The bus lurches to a stop and I step off. I take a deep breath of fresh cool air and feel thankful for my sweatshirt and sweatpants. I have no idea where I am but I don't panic. I go to the end of the road to check what street it is. The sign reads: Rosewood. It's fine, I know how to get home from here. I start walking and it feels good. The night is silent, except for the occasional cars. The air is chilly and I feel a cool wind fluttering my hair. The exercise feels refreshing. I haven't felt that in a long time.


	5. Chapter 4

**a/n: I know this chapter may be a little confusing because in the beginning I don't write about the person in the classroom but that is part of the story and everything will become clear later on.**

Chapter 4

I need to breath. I collapse on my locker, panting heavily. My throat feels tight.

' _Calm down,'_ I tell myself. _'You're fine.'_

I take a few deep, shuddering breaths. The second he stepped into that room I felt it, that choking feeling, that knot in my stomach. I told

Mr. Robert that I forgot my notebook. And now I'm here. I can't go back to class. I can't sit in my chair, feel that face grinning at me from behind. I hear voices from Mr. Porter's class so I quickly open my locker so that it looks like I'm rummaging for something. I hear a door close and I shut my locker. I need to get outside. I start walking quickly, round the corner and instantly collide with someone. Backing away, I look up to see who it is and recognize Steve Oliver. "I'm sorry," I say, it comes out no louder than a whisper. My face burning, I continue to walk down the hall.

"All right Clay! Someone's late for class, huh?" I hear Steve say.

 _Clay was there?_

I turn around and my question is answered. Clay is staring at me, his face pale. I hold his gaze for a second and then turn around. I hurry on. _'So he saw you bump into Steve, so what?'_ I tell myself. Right now what's important is to get outside. I'm so concentrated on my thoughts that I don't hear footsteps getting louder every second behind me. What I do hear is: 'Skye."

I freeze. That voice sounds so familiar. I don't want to turn around. I can't turn around. The footsteps get louder and louder until they stop. I can hear Clay's breathing behind me. "Skye?" he asks again. "Are you alright?" I don't turn around. I don't answer. He comes around and faces me. I open my mouth to say: I'm fine, but to my disgust, a small tear falls from my eye and trickles down my cheek. "I'm okay," I say and walk past him. The door outside is getting nearer, only a few more paces and I'm there, but then I feel a hand clamp on my shoulder.

"Stop." I don't want to, but something inside me makes me oblige. And once again he comes around and faces me. "You say I'm okay with a tear trickling down your face," he says. I don't meet his eyes. I stare at my shoes and try very hard to remain calm. "Can we talk?" he asks. Any other day I would be ecstatic if Clay asked me this. But today I just really need to be left alone. "Please?"

For a brief moment my eyes meet his and they look pleading. I give a small nod. He leads me around the corner to another deserted hallway and we enter one of the empty art classrooms. He sits on one of the desks but I remain standing. "Listen, I know something's going on and I want to help." My heart swells with affection for the boy in front of me. But I can't give him the answer he wants. "I'm just having a bad morning," I say lamely.

"You expect me to believe that?" Clay asks with a sad smile. I shrug. Truth is, I know he doesn't believe me and I doubt anything I say will convince him. But I can't tell him. I can't tell anyone.

"I know you don't really have anyone to talk to-" I smirk. "That's one way of putting it." He carries on as if he didn't hear me: "- but if you ever need someone..." his voice trails off. There's an awkward silence while we just stare at each other, not knowing what to say.

"What happened Skye? What happened that made you cut people off?"

That question catches me off-guard.

"What do you mean?" I ask stupidly.

"You used to have so many friends. What happened?"

Seriously? Is he seriously asking me this question?

"You think I purposely cut people off? You think I want to be this weirdo friendless girl who reads at lunch because she has no one to talk to?" I ask angrily. Clay looks shocked and a little hurt at this outburst. "I didn't mean to-"

"Yeah whatever, Clay. See you later." I turn around and walk out the door. I hurry to the nearest bathroom. Now I can't stop the silent tears from trickling down my face. I don't bother with wiping them away. I simply stare at the wall, trying to understand what just happened. Clay talking to me…asking if I'm okay…lashing out at him… _Oh God, I'm so stupid._ Why did I get mad like that? He was trying to help but I got angry and lashed out at him for no reason. _No wonder you have no friends, the second someone shows you the slightest hint of concern, you ruin it._ I'm so angry and frustrated. He hates me now, I'm sure of it. _As if he liked you before._ The bell rings and I panic. I quickly wipe away my tears and take a few deep breaths. A group of giggling girls comes in. A few take a moment to stare at me before taking out a load of cosmetics and turning to the mirror. I hurry out of the bathroom. I head to my locker and try to keep my head down. When I get there, I click it open and just stare at it for a moment. I didn't bother decorating my locker with all kinds of pictures and decorations like most of the girls at my school did. It's mostly drabby. I hung up one of my moms drawings as an attempt to make it a bit more cheerful but I had no success. I grab my math notebook and workbook and hurry down the crowded hall. Luckily, the classroom is on the floor of my locker so I don't have to go far. I sit on the left of the classroom, but not too far away from the teacher's desk because math is the the only subject I don't let myself daydream in class. The second bell rings and people scurry in and take their seats. My eyes follow one particular person and I know I won't be able to focus in this class. Clay sits down in the front of the class and I have a perfectly clear view of the back of his head. _'You are not going to spend this hour staring at him and stressing out,'_ I tell myself, knowing there's no chance that will happen. The teacher walks in and the class falls quiet.

"Good morning, please open to your homework from last lesson…"


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"Alright class, I have an announcement to make," said. It was Monday morning and, as usual, I had Peer Communications. I liked starting off the week with Peer communications. It wasn't a regular class where the teacher droned on and on while the students constantly checked their phone to see when the class would be over. In Peer Communications we discussed problems we actually face, unlike math problems.

"We will be working on a project this week. What we will be doing is you guys are going to work in pairs-" Instantly people made hand gestures to each other, meaning they wanted to work together. "- that I will be choosing." Everybody groaned. "This project will be one of many this year. In air of recent events-" Her eyes stopped on the empty seat in the middle of the classroom. "– the school has decided that it is necessary to try and create a better atmosphere at our school. We will begin with this small project. You will pair up, and these pairs will be sitting together for the rest of the week." At this the class groaned again. "Oh, calm down, it's only a week of your precious lunch time." The class laughed. smiled and went on. "You will get to know each other and I will also give you a list of topics that three of them, of your choice, you will discuss. At the end of the week, each pair will come up to the front of the class and give a brief explanation about what you talked about." I looked around to see the other kid's reactions. Most of them were listening intently to Mrs Bradley. I, personally, was kind of excited. Finally, a week when I wouldn't be sitting alone at lunch. "Okay, let's begin." walked to her desk and rummaged in her bag. She took out a piece of paper, straightened it out, and started reading out loud: "Alex and Tyler. Jessica and Mark. Anne and Mia…" I started zoning out and looked out the window. "Zach and Skye." I jerked my attention back to the classroom. I looked to the left and saw Zach smiling at me. I gave him a small smile back. I really had no opinion on this. I wasn't disappointed nor overly happy. I didn't know Zach very well but he seemed nice. continued on reading pairs until the bell rang. "If there's anyone who hasn't been paired up yet, please wait here until I call your name.

{o0o}

I walked into the cafeteria, my eyes scanning the tables for Zach. I spotted him sitting in an almost empty table but not before my eyes fell upon Clay, who was sitting in a table next to the doors outside talking to a girl I didn't know. He looked depressed, like he has been for the past week. I walked to where Zach was sitting and slid in to the seat across of him.

"Hey," he said.

"Hi," I said back and took a sandwich out of my backpack.

"Kind of weird, this project gave us," Zach said. "I guess, but I think it's pretty cool."

 _Of course you do._

"So, you got that list of topics she handed out?" he asked. "I think so," I answered, rummaging in my bag for it. My hand closed on a sheet of paper and I pulled it out. "Oops, not this," I said, realizing it was one of my drawings. "Whoa, wait," he said as I turned around to put it back in my bag. "Did you draw that?"

"Umm… yeah."

"Can I look?"

I was hesitant. It was a private drawing, a remaking of one of my mom's paintings of a boy and a girl, but as a silhouette.

"Sure," I sais and handed it over to him. I studied his face carefully. "It's really good," he said, handing it back to me. "Thanks," I said, and put it back in my backpack. "Here it is," I said, checking again the piece of paper I was taking out of my bag as to not make the same mistake twice. It was a long list of topics, most of them ones that we have already discussed in class, and some new to us. My eyes flitted down the page and stooped at one particular topic: Rape. Well, we wouldn't be discussing that topic, that's for sure. "All of these are so serious," Zach said. "Yeah," I said, not really paying attention to what he was saying. "How about: Books," I suggested, looking at the small word in the middle of the page. "I don't really read."

"Are you serious?"

Zach shrugged. "Well then, I am going to tell you all the reasons that you should read." Zach gave me a quizzical look and then said: "Okay, let's see what you got." I marveled for a second at how unexpectedly good this conversation was going and then began: "Well, first of all, reading shows you a different reality from what you are used to. You see life from a different angle. Reading makes you think about things that you usually wouldn't think about."

I stopped for a second to see how he reacted to this. He seemed interested, like what I said actually meant something to him.

"Reading is not the same as watching a move or a tv show because you can actually know what the character is thinking. It makes you understand that many people have the same thoughts as you or feel the same things as you do. That you're not alone." I stopped, feeling slightly embarrassed. I felt a blush creep up my cheeks and wouldn't meet Zach's eyes.

"Well, you've convinced me. Any recommendations for books I should read?" Out of surprise I forgot my embarrassment and looked at Zach, eyes widening. "Umm… yeah, obviously," I answered. Zach laughed. "Well, there's this series I really like. It's kind of dark though. It's called: The Wolves of Mercy Falls."

"The Wolves of Mercy Falls? That sounds intriguing," Zach said half sarcastically. I laughed.

"Alright, I'll try it."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"I could lend you it if you want."

"Yeah, that would be cool."

"Cool, so I'll bring the first book tomorrow."

The bell rang. "Well, I feel that this has been a successful conversation, what with you convincing me to read a book and all," Zach said as we got up and started walking toward the exit of the cafeteria. "I must agree."

"Oh hey, are you coming to the dance this Friday?"

"I thought the dance was last Friday," I said, once again wondering how I was so behind on school news.

"It was canceled because of the weather."

"Oh, umm… I don't think so."

"You know what, I'm making a deal with you. If I read the first book of The Wolves of Mercy Falls, you will go to the dance." I thought about this. I haven't been in a school dance since middle school. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Oh, who was I kidding.

"I'll think about," I lied. Zach gave me a smile. "See you tomorrow, then?"

"Definitely," I said and started walking toward my locker, refreshing the conversation in my head, amused.

 **a\n: The Wolves of Mercy Falls is a real book series which I do not own. But you guys should read it because it's really good.**


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

I guess I thought that the project with Zach would suddenly change my life and make me have friends, but I was wrong. Yesterday's lunch was great and all but right now, I'm standing by my locker and staring at the kids go by, waiting for the bell to ring. Nobody notices me, but sometimes it feels like there's a huge banner over my head saying: Skye is alone right now. I search in my backpack and feel the papery cover of my favorite book in the whole world. It makes me feel calmer just feeling it in my hands. It's battered from the many times I've read it. The bell rings and I close my backpack and climb the stairs to the third floor of the school. I enter the classroom and immediately regret it. The face of the boy I always look for in the halls is bent over a book in the middle of the classroom. Know that feeling of satisfaction when you spot the thing or person you've been looking for for a long time? Well I'm feeling the opposite. Clay is the only person in the classroom and I want to turn around and flee but it's that exact moment he picks to look up. His eyes meet mine and I feel tingles throughout my whole body. I can't walk away now so I lower my eyes and place my backpack under the desk nearest to me. The silence feels awkward. Clay goes back to reading but I wonder if he's paying any attention to the words he's staring at. Every tiny sound feels loud and awkward.

"I'm sorry."

I'm as surprised of the words that come out of my mouth as he is. He stares at me until the point when it becomes uncomfortable and I feel my face burn. It's as if the words keep echoing off the walls of the room but I know it's all in my head. I don't know what to do by this point. Should I sit down and pretend I never said anything?

"You have nothing to be sorry about. I should be the one apologizing." His blue eyes bore into mine as he says these words. "What I said was stupid." It looks like he's going to say something else but then the second bell rings. I sit down as kids start filing in. I feel like I should be glad that we talked and everything's fine between us but our conversation felt hollow and empty. Maybe I expect too much of Clay Jensen.

{o0o}

I stuff my notebook and pen in my bag and hurry out the door. The hallway is packed with kids trying to get to the cafeteria. I push through the crowded hall and emerge in the already full cafeteria. I know where to go because Zach and I planned to meet in the same place as yesterday. I walk over to the half empty table and see that I got there before him. I plop down on the bench and wait. After a few minutes I take out my sandwich and pick at it. Then I see him. He catches my eyes and gives me a smile. I nod back and watch him walk around all the other tables until he reaches ours. He sits down and says: "Sorry I'm late, Mrs. Kiers decided to write down the homework a second before the bell rang." I chuckle and reach inside my backpack. "Here's the book," I say as I hand it over to him. "Thanks," he says as he takes it from me and examines the cover. It's blue and dark and mysterious. "I'll start right away," he says half jokingly and opens to the first page. I crack a smile. I'm actually kind of nervous about giving him the book. What if he thinks it's weird and then thinks I'm weird? Not that weird is a bad thing. It's just that I finally have someone to sit with in lunch (even if it's only for a week) and I don't want to ruin that. "So far, I like it," Zach says, breaking my chain of thoughts. "It's dark, but pretty cool."

"I know," I say and he laughs. " As much as I want to keep reading this book, we have a topic to discuss."

"Indeed we do," I say and try to straighten out the crumpled paper that was stuffed in my bag. I consider all the topics and then look at Zach to see if he has any ideas. He's scanning them too.

"It's a bit too obvious that they put suicide on here," I say. Zach nods.

"Did you know her well? Hannah, I mean," I ask. Zach suddenly becomes serious. I suddenly feel like an idiot. Why would I ask that? It's a stupid question. "We didn't really talk," he suddenly says. He's talking quietly, and it's hard to hear him over the noise of the cafeteria. "I tried to help her once, after this jerk did a really stupid thing on a date with her. And then I did a really stupid thing." It sounds like he's not telling the whole truth but I don't press him. Neither of us says anything for awhile because really, what is there to say? I figure we should at least keep talking about it a little more so that it counts as a topic we discussed. "I talked to her sometimes," I say. "She seemed like the kind of girl who should have a lot of friends. I mean she was nice, pretty, and good at conversations." _Unlike yourself._

"There were a lot of rumors about her, though."

Zach suddenly stands up. "I need to go," he says, and just like that, turns around and walks away. I sit there, bewildered. _Oh my God, how stupid can you be?_ It feels like the whole cafeteria is staring at me, but in reality, nobody's even looking at me. _I'm such a fucking idiot._ I stand up to throw my sandwich in the garbage and leave the cafeteria. I won't be surprised if Zach doesn't show up tomorrow.


End file.
